A Passionate Surrender
by maldita08
Summary: Tezuka never said I love you. Fuji thinks Tezuka is keeping a mistress and she is not willing to share, If Fuji cannot have Tezuka’s love, she decided that it would be Tezuka’s fidelity or nothing at all. AU TeFu
1. The Rift

Disclaimer: I own none of Prince of Tennis, Konomi-sensei does. All that belongs to me is the plot.

_**A/N: Let me get one thing straight, on the reviews, I never asked you to include praises. All i asked is for the readers to tell me which version they like better.**_

mal-chan: Thanks to all the person who reviewed. So in the end, the girl version had won. Enjoy! Thanks to Far-Fetched Imagineer for beta-editing this chappie! You've been a great help! I decided to update this earlier than what I originally planned. Kindly excuse any oocness you may find it the story.

Summary: Tezuka never said I love you. Fuji thinks Tezuka is keeping a mistress and she is not willing to share, If Fuji cannot have Tezuka's love, she decided that it would be Tezuka's fidelity or nothing at all. AU TeFu

Pairing: TezuFuji/KuniSuke

Age: Tezuka 27/ Fuji 25

Rating: T

WARNING: Gender bending. Possessive Tezuka and demanding Fuji ahead! Tezuka and Fuji are married but I would still use Fuji to refer to Syuusuke so as to avoid confusion and awkwardness (on my part at least).Rating may go up in the future.

Genre: Romance/Angst

* * *

Title: A Passionate Surrender

'_Kami-sama'_

The husky imprecation held an angry silkiness as Tezuka Kunimitsu tossed the faxed report down onto his desk.

Detailed surveillance of his wife's movements during the past nine days revealed few surprises, although one caused to narrow his eyes in contemplative suspicion.

Reflex action had him reaching for his mobile phone and keying a series of digits.

"Put me through Shouta-sensei." He instructed curtly as soon as the receptionist picked up.

"Sensei has a patient with him."

"It's urgent." He said without compunction. "Tell him it's Tezuka Kunimitsu, he'll take the call."

Minutes later he had official confirmation, and his expression hardened as he reached for the inter-office phone.

Clear, concise instructions set his plan in motion, and after placing the receiver he stood to his feet and crossed to the large-plate glass window.

The city spread out before him in splendid panorama; sparkling blue sky, tall office buildings in varying height and design of concrete, steel and glass.

It was a familiar sight. Yet today he didn't register the view or the expensive furnishing, the genuine art grazing the walls of his luxurious office.

There was no pleasure of the scene evident on his chiseled features, little emotion on his brooding gaze as he lapsed to reflective thought.

Marriage had never entered his mind. For the past several years he'd enjoyed a few selective relationships… no commitments, no empty words promising permanence.

Until Fuji.

The daughter of one of his executives, she'd often accompany her parents to various functions. She was attractive, in her mid-twenties, intelligent – a genius in fact, and she possessed a great sense of humor which sometimes bordered to sadistic. What was more, she wasn't intimidated and wasn't in awe of him, his status or his wealth.

And for the first time, Tezuka was aware of his own mortality, his accumulated wealth…the need to share his life with one woman, have children with her, and forge future together.

Who better than Fuji to be in the role of his wife? He cared for her, she was eminently suitable and he could provide her with an enviable lifestyle.

The wedding had been one of the most magnificent weddings Japan had ever witnessed, Attended by almost all of the country's elite, and was followed by a month-long honeymoon touring Europe, after which they settled easily in day-today life.

A year on, the only blight on the horizon was Izanami Huzen, an ex-mistress, recently divorced and hell-bent on causing mischief.

Tezuka's mouth tightened into a grim line as he recalled the few occasions when Izanami had deliberately orchestrated a compromising situation. Incidents he'd dealt with skilled diplomacy and the warning to desist, something Izanami refused to heed. Her persistence became an issue, and Fuji found it difficult to condone.

Less than two weeks ago an argument over breakfast had ended badly, and he'd arrived home that evening to discover Fuji had packed a bag and taken a flight to Osaka.

The note Fuji had left him declared a need for a few days away to _think things through._

Except a _few days _had become 9, and the latter 36 hours of which has resulted to unreturned calls from voice-mail and text messages left on Fuji's cellphone.

Her father, upon confrontation, swore she wasn't answering _his_ messages either, and he have every reason not to lie.

Yumiko, her older sister and business partner, also disavowed any knowledge of Fuji's whereabouts, other than cite a hotel in Osaka, from which enquiries had revealed Fuji had checked out within 3 days of registering.

Consequently, Tezuka had no reservation of engaging the services of a private detective, whose verbal updates were now detailed in a faxed report.

Fuji's actions merely confirmed Tezuka's suspicions. A newly leased apartment wasn't conducive to a temporary break.

However, Tezuka could deal with that; and several scenarios of just _how_ he'd deal with it occupied his mind. Foremost of which was the intention to haul the tensai over his shoulder and bring her home.

Something, he decided grimly, he should have done within a day or two of her leaving, instead of allowing her the distance, time and space she vowed so desperately to need. Yet she'd done the unexpected by attempting to cover her tracks…without success.

Surely Fuji couldn't believe Tezuka would let her separation bid drag for long.

The inter-office phone rang and he crossed the office and picked it up.

"Tezuka-san, the jet is on stand-by and your car is out front. The servants would have a suitcase ready upon your arrival."

"Hn. Thank you Midori-san."

An hour later, Tezuka sank into one of the plush chairs of his private jet, and prepared for take-off.

TeFuTeFuTeFuTeFuTeFu

"Go take a lunch break."

Fuji packed the set of picture she was holding. It was her third day as an assistant in a photo shop in the trendy suburbs of Osaka. She entered the shop in a whim, examined the pictures on display to cheer her up, and noticing the harassed expression, she'd jokingly asked if the owner needed help, citing her experience as a photographer. What Fuji didn't impart is that, she co-owned a photography agency back in Tokyo.

Incredible as it seemed, acquiring a job had been as simple as being in the right place at the right time.

Fate, it seemed, had taken a hand, although eventually she'd have to address her dilemma from Tokyo, her husband.

A hallow laugh escaped Fuji's throat as she caught up her bag.

It was a beautiful day and Fuji decided to eat in one of the outdoor cafes.

Efficient service ensured immediate attention, and she gave her order and flipped through a magazine.

The chatter from patrons at adjoining tales provided a pleasant background. Fuji liked the ambience, enjoyed being part of it, and the similarity to equally trendy areas in Tokyo didn't escape her.

It was quite easy to tamp down the longing for the city where she'd been born and raised, but it wasn't easy to dismiss the man that she'd married a little more than a year ago.

Tezuka Kunimitsu possessed the height, breadth of shoulder and attractive good looks to turn any woman's and occasionally, a man's head. Add sophisticated charm, an aura of power, and the result is devastating.

Born in one of Japan's richest and highly respected family, Tezuka had chosen academia and entered the field of merchant banking, rising rapidly through the ranks to assume a position that involved directional decision-making.

Inherited wealth combined with astute business acumen ensured he numbered high among the country's rich and famous.

For Fuji, it had only taken one look at him and the attraction was instant. Tezuka affected Fuji as no man ever had; the tensai had been in love with him.

It was the reason Fuji accepted the marriage proposal, and she convinced herself that it was enough he vowed his fidelity and promised to honor and care for her.

'THE CATCH OF THE DECADE' Tokyo Times had captioned when Tezuka Kunimitsu had taken Fuji Syuusuke as a bride.

Maybe, given time, his affection for her would become love, and a year into the marriage she was content. She had an attentive husband, and life had assumed a pleasant routine.

Until Izanami, always the temptress, re-entered the scene, newly divorced and _hunting_…with Tezuka as her prey.

Subtle destruction carefully orchestrated to diminish Fuji's confidence. The divorcee was very clever in aiming her verbal barbs out of Tezuka's hearing. Implying an affair, citing dates and times when Tezuka was absent on business or when he extended a business meeting to include dinner with colleagues were merely excuses given in order to be with Izanami.

Doubt and suspicion coupled with anger and jealousy built over a period of weeks.

Even now, the thought of Izanami's recent contretemps made Fuji grit her teeth. Despite Tezuka's denial, where there is a smoke, there were embers just waiting to be fanned into flame. And infidelity is something Fuji refused to tolerate.

Angry words had led to a full-scale argument, and afterwards, Fuji made a few phone calls, packed a bag and taken the midday flight to Osaka, leaving only a note and she doubted that it would appease Tezuka for long…

"Syuusuke."

The voice was all too familiar, its inflexion deep and it held no emotion.

There had been no instinctive sixth sense that might have alerted her to his presence, nothing to warn of the unexpected.

Fuji slowly raised her head and met her husband's steady gaze. Unwanted reaction kicked in, and she banked it down, aware on some base level of the effect he had on her senses.

How was it possible to love, yet hate someone in equal measure?

She could think of any number of reasons to justify the way how she felt…ambivalence, out-of-whack hormones, the desire to hurt as she hurt.

Why then did she possess this crazy urge to feel the sanctuary of the arms and the brush of Tezuka's mouth on her own? The heat of his body…

_Don't go there._

Fuji forced herself to subject him to an analytical appraisal, deliberately noting the chiseled facial structure which was enhanced by golden-brown eyes, firm jaw and a mouth to die for. Stylishly messy brown hair grew thick on his head.

Attired in a three-piece Armani suit, crisp white shirt and impeccably knotted silk tie, Tezuka exuded an aura of invincible power.

Tall, stoic and dangerous was an apt description, Fuji perceived.

Tezuka took the seat opposite the tensai, ordered jasmine tea from the hovering waitress, and then focused his attention to his wife.

Fuji looked pale, and she'd lost a few essential pounds from her petite frame. There were faint shadows evident, as if the tensai hadn't been sleeping well, and her eyes were dark with fatigue.

Tezuka's appraisal irked her unbearably, "Are you done?" Her voice sounded tense even to her own ears.

He resembled a predator that is deceptively at ease. Except his seemingly blank façade didn't fool her in the slightest, there wasn't a doubt he'd pounce. It's only a matter of _when_.

"No." Tezuka said as she pushed the bowl of partly eaten food to the side.

"Eat." Tezuka bade quietly, and Fuji threw him a baleful glare.

"I've lost my appetite."

"Order something else."

Fuji barely resisted the urge to throw something at him. "Should I ask how you discovered my whereabouts?"

Tezuka's gaze didn't waver; his eyes were cool, fathomless. "I would have thought the answer is self-explanatory."

"You hired a detective and had me followed?"

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

Fuji took a calming breath and pointedly checked her watch. "What do you want, Tezuka? I suggest you make it fast. I'm due back at work in ten minutes."

"No, you're not." Tezuka said firmly.

"What do you mean no?"

"You no longer have a job and your apartment lease has been terminated."

Fuji felt as if all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Angry consternation colored her cheeks. "You have no right-"

"Yes," His voice was deadly quiet. "I do."

Fuji, for the lack of anything to say stood up and prepared to leave only to have Tezuka's hand clamp over her arm.

"I intend to file a divorce."

Tezuka's gaze pierced through her. "Divorce isn't an option."

Silence stood between them, a haunting entity that became more significant with every passing second, and there was little Fuji could do but comply as Tezuka exerted sufficient pressure to ensure she sank down to her chair.

"Don't you have something to tell me?"

"Go away and leave me alone?" Fuji taunted.

Tezuka subjected her to an intense glare. A muscle twisted in Fuji's stomach, and she resisted the urge to soothe it with her hand.

He couldn't possibly know, could he? The tensai went suddenly cold at the thought. For the past few weeks, she alternated between joy and despair.

"I'll make it easy for you," Tezuka said with deadly softness. "You're carrying my child."

TBC…

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Constructive criticisms and reviews are more than welcome; flames would be used to cook my meals! 


	2. Choices

Disclaimer: I own none of Prince of Tennis, Konomi-sensei does. All that belongs to me is the plot.

mal-chan: Thanks to all the person who reviewed. Second chappie up! A pack of wasabi pocky for each of you(Courtesy of Fuji)!Enjoy! Thanks to **Far-Fetched Imagineer **for beta-editing this story! I wouldn't be ale to post this without you!

Summary: Tezuka never said I love you. Fuji thinks Tezuka is keeping a mistress and she is not willing to share, If Fuji cannot have Tezuka's love, she decided that it would be Tezuka's fidelity or nothing at all. AU TeFu

Pairing: TezuFuji/KuniSuke

Age: Tezuka 27/ Fuji 25

Rating: T

WARNING: Gender bending. Possessive Tezuka and demanding Fuji ahead! Tezuka and Fuji are married but I would still use Fuji to refer to Syuusuke so as to avoid confusion and awkwardness (on my part at least).Rating may go up in the future.

Genre: Romance/Angst

* * *

Title: A Passionate Surrender

Recap:

"I'll make it easy for you." Tezuka said with deadly silence. "You're carrying my child."

Story start:

"A child that is also _mine_," Fuji said fiercely.

"_Ours._" His voice sent shivers down her spine. "I refuse to be relegated as a weekend father, restricted to sharing my child on a part-time basis."

"Is that why you came after me? Because I suddenly got what you want?" Fuji's eyes darkened to the deepest sapphire, her anger very real at that precise moment. Yet inside, she wanted to weep. For the child she conceived. For herself, for wanting the love of a man she doubted would ever love her.

"I'd rather be a single parent than attempt to raise a child in a household where its father divides his time to its mother and his mistress."

"_Mistress?_" his voice was quiet.

Too quiet, she perceived and suppressed a faint shudder.

"You accuse me of having an affair?"

"Izanami-"

"Was someone I shared a brief relationship three, four years ago."

"According to her, the affair is ongoing."

"Why would I want a mistress when I have _you_?"

Remembering what they shared in bed brought hectic color to Fuji's cheeks. "For the heck of it?" the tensai ventured carelessly, adding, "Because you're insatiable and one woman isn't enough?"

If possible, his features hardened, making his implacable mask stay firmer on his face. "Don't tempt me to say something I might regret."

"Go back to Tokyo, Tezuka. There's nothing you can say or do to make me return with you."

"No."

Fuji sensed the steel beneath the dangerously icy tone and concealed an illusory premonition.

"Coercion carries no weight in a court law. However, embezzlement does." Tezuka paused, watching her features in a bid to assess whether she had any prior knowledge Fuji Shun had indulged in creative accounting over a six-time span.

"Excuse me?"

Tezuka chose his words with care, weighing each for its impact. "The bank's auditors have discovered a series of discrepancies."

"How can that involve me?" she asked, puzzled.

"Indirectly, it does."

Even a naïve fool could do simple arithmetic and she is a genius. "You're implying that my _father _is responsible?" Fuji demanded. "I don't believe you."

Tezuka reached inside his jacket, withdrew a folded document and placed it in front of her, "A copy of the auditors' report."

Fuji touched the paper hesitantly then she opened the document and read the report.

It was conclusive and pejorative, the attached spreadsheet listing each transaction, lengthy and detailed.

Fuji felt herself go cold. Embezzlement, theft… they were one and the same, and a punishable crime.

Tezuka studied her features, witnessed the fleeting emotions, and anticipated her loyalty.

"It was cleverly done," He revealed with a degree of cynicism. So much so, it had been missed twice. He wasn't sure which angered him more… the lost of trust in one of his valued executives, or the fact that Fuji Shun relied on his daughter's connection.

"How long have you known?" Fuji queried with a sense of dread, unwilling to examine where this one was going, yet desperately afraid that her wildest suspicion would be proven.

"Nine days."

Coincidentally, the same time she wrote him a note and took a flight to Osaka. Did Tezuka think that was the reason why she left?

Men of Tezuka's caliber always had a back-up plan. And this was personal. Very personal.

"What do you want, Tezuka?"

"No divorce. Our child." He paused. "My wife on my home, my bed."

"Go to hell."

"Not today, anata."

Blood rushed to Fuji's cheeks which lent her azure eyes a fiery sparkle. "You think you can make decisions and make me meekly comply?"

"_Meek _isn't a word to be associated with you."

Fuji stood and slung her bag over her shoulder then she turned to the direction of the photo shop, aware that Tezuka fell into step at her side.

"I intend to explain to the letting agent and my employer that you're a conceited someone with no right to dictate my life."

"And your father would go to jail."

Fuji's step faltered and she threw him a look that would have felled a lesser man. "How come you get to make the rules?"

"Because I can."

"And I get to choose whether to resume my marriage to you in return for no charges laid against my father." There was no doubt that Tezuka viewed this as another business proposal. Well, she would do the same. "What of restitution?"

"It will be taken care of."

"And his job?"

"Already terminated."

She was dying inside, inch by inch. "His references?" she pursued tightly.

"I have a duty of disclosure."

Something that would make it almost impossible for her father to gain a similar position anywhere in Tokyo, possibly even in the country.

"I'll think about it."

His eyes were hard, their impression implacable. "You gave an hour."

"Are you this ruthless in the business arena?" Stupid question, Fuji mentally castigated. His steel-willed determination and ruthless decision-making had earned him a reputation as one of Tokyo's most feared negotiator.

His silence sent chills down her spine.

They reached the studio, and she turned towards him, her sapphire eyes gleaming with hidden anger as she met and held his golden gaze.

"There are a few conditions."

His gaze hardened. "You're hardly in a position to demand conditions."

Didn't he know how much she hurt? Just looking at him caused her physical pain, remembering the hopes and dreams she'd held, only to have them shatter one by one.

"I want your word that you won't attempt to deny me my child once it's born."

Something moved in Tezuka's eyes that Fuji didn't care to define. "Granted."

"Your fidelity."

"You've had that since day one."

She looked at him long and hard, then lifted a fine eyebrow in silent query. "Not according to Izanami."

"Naturally, you chose to believe her over me." He said, faint cynicism evident in his voice.

"There's just one more thing," she pursued.

It was impossible to tell from his stoic expression and she didn't even try.

"And that is?"

"I want it all in writing and legally notarized before I give you my answer."

As an exit line, it took same beating, and she didn't look back as she stepped inside the studio.

"I wasn't expecting you."

Stiff formality replaced a former easy friendliness. Fuji cursed Tezuka.

"He doesn't look the type of man that would take no for an answer."

She smiled, albeit a bit strained. "I can give you this afternoon, if that's okay?"

"I've already put in a call to the employment agency."

What else did she expect?

"Are you going to return to Tokyo with him?"

"Possibly." Fuji deposited her bag out back, and she checked the order book, then she set to work.

Concentration was the key, but all too frequently it wavered as she examined one format after another, only to discard each of them. Where could she go that Tezuka wouldn't find her?

A faint shiver raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. If Tezuka had a private investigator following her every move, it was feasible the man was still on duty. It gave her a creepy feeling, and made her incredibly angry.

Tezuka played the game with consummate skill in presenting her with a death blow.

But the game has only started and Fuji plans to play by the rules...her own.

* * *

**Mal-chan: OMG! I cant believe I made Tezuka blackmail Fuji, is the world coming to an end? A blushing Fuji? WTF! Kindly excuse any oocness. Understand that Fuji is mislead y her beliefs and, just blame it on the hormones of a pregnant woman. I dont know the name of Fuji's dad so I made up one.**

**Thanks for reading! Constructive criticisms and reviews are more than welcome; flames would be used to cook my meals! Yum!**


	3. Return

Disclaimer: I own none of Prince of Tennis, Konomi-sensei does. All that belongs to me is the plot.

Mal-chan:: I'm back with chapter 3, sorry it took me quite a while. Thanks to**saya, Alaena Flame Dragonstar, Animestar73, Moonlight-sama, vierblith, Loving Monday, masi, darkdemoncat **for reviewing!! I hearts you all!Gives chocolate-and-almond-civered pocky.

Thanks to **Far-Fetched Imagineer** for beta-editing this chappie! I lurve you Ate Awdie!

Summary: Tezuka never said I love you. Fuji thinks Tezuka is keeping a mistress and she is not willing to share, If Fuji cannot have Tezuka's love, she decided that it would be Tezuka's fidelity or nothing at all. AU TeFu

Pairing: TezuFuji/KuniSuke

Age: Tezuka 27/ Fuji 25

Rating: T

WARNING: Gender bending. Possessive Tezuka and demanding Fuji ahead! Tezuka and Fuji are married but I would still use Fuji to refer to Syuusuke so as to avoid confusion and awkwardness (on my part at least).Rating may go up in the future.

Genre: Romance/Angst

* * *

Title: A Passionate Surrender

How long would it take Tezuka to consult a lawyer and have the requested paperwork completed? With his influence and connections, Fuji doubted he'd have any problem.

The studio was busy, there were several phone calls, and people walked in and off the street to select purchases. Films, disposable cameras, batteries, high-end cameras…the requested items were numerous and varied.

Fuji was in the middle of fixing the set for the next couple who wanted to have their picture taken when the door buzzer sounded for the umpteenth time. She automatically looked up to greet the customer with her eternal smile, and saw Tezuka watching her actions.

There was an element of formidability existent, a sense of purpose that was daunting, and Fuji was conscious of an elevated sense of tension.

Her hands paused as her gaze locked with his, then she bent her head and focused on the task she was previously doing.

The drape completed the set, and she motioned for the couple to proceed.

"Are you done?" Tezuka asked coldly, his gaze caught by a tendril of hair that obscured his view of the closed eyes of the tensai, and he resisted the urge to sweep it back behind her ear.

"I finish at six."

The atmosphere in the room seemed suddenly charged, and the latent electricity could almost be felt.

Tezuka's eyes narrowed with a chilling bleakness. "You could do better than that."

"We're busy." Fuji smiled and she was so polite it was almost comical. She made a thing of checking the time. "I'm sure you can manage to fill in a few hours."

He could, easily. However, Tezuka didn't feel inclined to pander to her deliberate manipulation. "One hour, Syuusuke." He warned in a cold voice.

"Are you mad?" The older woman carried the instant Tezuka left the shop.

"Certifiably." Fuji agreed imperturbably.

"Gutsy, I admire that in a woman."

Fuji was wrong to think that she can best Tezuka. Except she was damned if she'd allow him to set down rules and expect her to abide each without a fight.

"I'm going to be sorry to lose you, honey. We were just starting to get along."

"I could be back." Fuji said with humor, and heard the other woman's laughter.

"I doubt he'll let you get away again. Now, why don't you go finish up? I can mange the rest." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Besides, I'm not averse to a woman stirring a man up a bit."

Leave and not be there when Tezuka arrived? Perfect, just as Fuji wanted to do. Fuji flashed the woman a smile.

"Good luck, honey. If you're ever back this way up again, call in and say hello." She withdrew an envelope from her pocket, "Your pay."

"Keep it in lieu of notice."

"Some would. I won't. Now go."

It took 5 minutes to walk to her apartment, and once she's inside, she headed straight to the kitchen, extracted a bottle from the fridge and drank from it until her thirst was quenched. Then, she made for the bedroom, stripped her clothes and hit the shower.

Fuji washed her hair then dressed in jeans and singlet top.

Packing would probably be a good move, but somehow achieving it indicated her imminent return to Tokyo, and sheer stubbornness ensured she put off the task for as long as possible. Besides, how long would it take to empty a few clothes a possessions in a travel bag?

It was five when the intercom buzzed and she knew it had to be Tezuka, no one knew her address.

Fuji cleared him through security into the main lobby, and then, she waited for the lift to reach its designated floor.

Her doorbell rang and she crossed the lounge to open the door.

He stood looming large in the aperture, vaguely threatening. Tezuka removed his jacket and holed it over one shoulder. He'd loosened the top few buttons of his shirt, and folded the cuffs from each wrist. It lent him a casual air that was belied by his stoic expression.

Fuji met his gaze with fearless disregard. "I refuse to be treated like a runaway child on the verge of being dragged home by its parent."

He let his gaze rove slowly over her slim form, then pinned her blue eyes with his hazel orbs. "For the record, my relationship with you is hardly paternal."

"You're setting down rules, taking away my freedom of choice!"

"I've given you an option." Tezuka corrected.

"Sure, you have." Fuji speared him with an icy-blue glare, "With only one possible answer."

Tezuka entered the lounge and shut the door behind him. "Did you imagine I'd have any other way?"

Fuji closed her eyes again. "You've made it quite clear that the child I carry is the main reason."

He withdrew an envelope from his pocket and extended it towards her. "The legalities you requested."

Stark legalese held an awful clarity she was loath to accept. Yet what other course did she have?

There were further clauses outlining conditions that covered every eventuality and more. "You expect me to sign this?"

"A legal agreement was your idea."

He was right, but it didn't make it any easier to attach her signature beneath his.

Tezuka took the document and tucked it in his jacket. "Do you want to eat out or order in?"

Food? "I thought you'd want to head back-" Fuji paused, unable for the life of her to say _home,_ "To Tokyo."

"_We,_" Tezuka corrected, adding quietly, "And you need to eat."

She spared him a long, thoughtful look, assessing the latent power, his innate sensual chemistry.

She could qualify a one-sided love, content that it was _enough_ not to have love returned in kind. She could even accept his heart to remain locked, hopeful that with time affection might become deeper, more meaningful.

At no stage had Fuji envisioned the presence of a mistress.

And now, there was to be a child…

She desperately wanted the marriage to survive. But there had to be trust and honesty.

Was Tezuka's word, verbally and noted in legalese, sufficient?

After all, words were only an expression of intent, and easily disregarded and broken.

"How long will it take you to pack?"

"I'd be ready in 15 minutes."

Without further word, she went to the bedroom, placed the empty bag on a chair and began packing.

Tezuka withdrew his phone, keyed in a series of numbers and instructed his pilot on stand by for the return flight.

TeFuTeFuTeFuTeFuTeFuTeFuTeFu

Tezuka chose a restaurant at one of the up market hotel.

Her appetite seemed to have fled. She picked on her starter, nibbled a few morsels from the main course and refused dessert.

"Not hungry?"

"No."

Tezuka deferred to her preference of tea and ordered coffee for himself.

Fuji watched as he spooned sugar into the dark brew, noting the shape of the hand, the skin texture and the tensile strength evident.

He had the touch, the skill to drive her mindless.

Sexual chemistry. It had a power of its own. Damning, lethal.

Three quarters of an hour later they crossed the tarmac and stepped into the luxurious jet.

The jet wheeled its way out onto the runway, then cleared for take-off, gathered speed and rose to the sky.

The light was fading as dusk approached, and there was an opalescent glow as the sun slipped beneath the horizon in a brilliant flare of orange tinged with pink.

Fuji made no attempt at conversation and simply leaned back and closed her eyes, successfully shutting the sight of Tezuka seated at her side.

It didn't however shut out her chaotic thoughts.

A return to Tokyo meant the re-emergence of the lifestyle she'd thought to escape. There was his father, her sister, the studio.

Worst of all, there was Izanami Huzen. Her nemesis and enemy.

Absenting herself for more than a week hadn't solved a thing. The problems remained. All that had been achieved was a metaphorical stay of execution.

Who would win? The wife or the mistress?

TBC…

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Constructive criticisms and reviews are more than welcome; flames would be used to cook my meals!

I'm twisted. Harharharhar


	4. Battle of the wills

Disclaimer: I own none of Prince of Tennis.

A/N:: Yay! I made this especially for Fuji's birthday! And contrary to the popular belief, mal-chan is not dead yet. And please don't kill me because of this chapter!

I cant believe I made Fuji this emotional! I tried to tone it down as much as I could, I swear! Again, me says blame it to the hormones.

I think this would be a good DN with Atobe or Sanada in Tezuka's role!

WARNING: protective and possessive Tezuka ahead!

To the people who're wondering why i refer to Fuji and Tezuka as Fuji and Tezuka(when in fact they're married) while narrating, I do that for my own sake. I'm having a hard time pertaining to them as Syuusuke and Kunimitsu. It's just wrong. Does that make any sense? -sweatdrop-

_**Okusama –**_means lady of the house.

**HappyBirthdayFuji-UnrivaledPair-HappyBirthdayFuji-UnrivaledPair-HappyBirthdayFuji**

"Good evening, okusama."

Fuji returned the greeting and offered Inoue a faint smile as she slid into the rear passenger seat, aware that Tezuka crossed behind the vehicle and slipped in beside her.

Within minutes, Inoue eased the car forward, cleared the private sector and joined the traffic vacating the airport.

At this time of night they'd make good time in Tezuka Mansion, and she sank back into the soft leather upholstery, intent on viewing the passing surroundings.

Bright lights, colored flashing neon…the muted noise of a big, cosmopolitan city.

To her it was _home_, where she'd been born and raised, with an endearing sense of the familiar.

Blustery shower sprung up, splattering the windscreen with fine rain-spray, diminishing visibility.

It seemed to close in, heightening the close confines of the car and her proximity to the man at her side.

Silence stretched between them like a yawning chasm, and Fuji thought of a safe topic of conversation, only to discard it. Why pretend?

Tezuka Mansion was a prestigious landmark with magnificent view of the city, and Fuji's nerves tensed as the car turned in between the electronically controlled gates to Tezuka's architecturally designed home.

Stretching over two blocks of land, the elegant double-storey mansion possessed imposing lines, archways and high-domed windows. It was set in well kept grounds, the sculptured gardens maintained by Inoue, who resided in the room above the garages, and whose duties covered numerous chores supplemented by twice a week household help.

The car drew to a halt beneath the wide portico, and Fuji emerged before Inoue could move round and open the door, thereby incurring his faintly pained expression.

She stood as Tezuka disabled the security system and unlocked the double doors. He swung them wide and she entered by his side.

Marble floor tiles in varying shades cream bordered by forest-green covered the spacious foyer, and there were expensive works of art grazing the walls. Formal lounge and dining-room were positioned to the right, informal rooms and a spacious study lay on the left. The focal point was a wide sweeping marble staircase leading to the upper floor which held no fewer than seven bedrooms, each _en suite_; the master suite, and a private sitting room.

"I'll serve refreshments," Inoue indicated as he moved into the foyer after securing the doors.

"Not for me," Fuji softened her refusal with a smile, and made for the stairs. She felt disinclined to extend the façade any longer than necessary.

Tezuka followed in her footsteps, and she turned to face him as they reached the landing.

"I'd prefer to have a room of my own."

Tezuka's expression didn't change. "No."

Resentment flared. "What do you mean…_no_?"

"I would have thought my answer held sufficient clarity."

"I don't want to sleep with you."

"Perhaps not…tonight," Tezuka amended softly, and caught the flicker of pain in those azure eyes before it was successfully hidden.

"Not _any_ night!"

"Brave words, Syuusuke."

He move ahead of her with laid-back ease; her bag in hand, and Fuji watched in silence as he entered the master suite only to emerge second later empty-handed.

She wanted to rail against him, hating the power he possessed and her own inability to retaliate in kind. She was caught in a web, tied to him by the child she'd conceived, and held there by family loyalty.

"_Go to hell_, Kunimitsu," she evinced bitterly as he drew level.

He paused, and caught hold of her chin, tilting it so Fuji had little option but to meet his steady gaze. "Careful, anata. I might be tempted to take you there."

Her eyes widened at the silkily voiced threat, and her lips shook slightly as Tezuka's hand slid to cup her cheek. "I don't scare easily."

"One of your admirable qualities." He released her and moved towards the head of the stairs.

He would, she knew, check with Inoue for any messages, make the required calls, scan his email, and deal with the urgent stuff…all of which could take half an hour, or more.

It gave her time…to do what? Settle in? The thought was laughable.

Fuji came into the master room and to a halt a few steps into the large room. Nothing had changed…had she really expected it to?

The king-sized bed with its dark, richly patterned duvet and numerous pillows was a focal point. Furniture comprised matching sets of drawers in varying heights, and there were dual _ensuites, _dual walk-in wardrobes. A deep cushioned sofa and a chaise lounge completed a room that was designed for comfort and pleasure.

A feathery sensation scudded the length of Fuji's spine, and she cursed beneath her breath as memories of what she's shared with Tezuka in this room rose gallingly to the surface.

Vivid, electrifying, shameless.

Kami-sama, how could she slip between those covers and pretend that nothing happened.

Fuji can't bear to think about it. Yet she had to face the situation.

But not tonight, she determined as she crossed to the upholstered stool at the foot of the bed, caught up her bag and retreated to another room, where she unpacked an oversized shirt, toiletries, then crossed to the adjoining en suite.

She should phone her father, then her sister to let them know she was home. Although if either opted to call, it would be to her cellphone, and there was time enough tomorrow to apprise them both of her return.

Now all she wanted to do is to undress and slip into bed, although there were too many thoughts chasing through her brain to promote an easy slide into sleep.

Fuji was wrong. The events of the day, the flight, each took their toll, and combined with the effects of pregnancy ensured the she was asleep within minutes of her head touching the pillow.

**HappyBirthdayFuji-UnrivaledPair-HappyBirthdayFuji-UnrivaledPair-HappyBirthdayFuji**

Fuji woke slowly, drifting pleasantly to consciousness, unaware for a few disoriented seconds of her whereabouts.

Then it all came flooding back...the flight, Osaka, _Kunimitsu._

Fuji's eyes widened as she recognized the master suite, the large bed...and the familiar brunette male head resting on the pillow beside her own.

How could she be _here_ when last night...?

"You were asleep." Tezuka's voice was an indolent drawl, and her gaze was trapped in his for a few heart-stopping seconds, then he shifted, moving that powerful frame into a sitting position with fluid ease.

Fuji closed her eyes then opened it up again. There was too much flesh moulded into enviable shape by muscle and sinew on show.

She longed to reach up and curl her hands round his nape and drag his mouth down to hers.

Except Fuji did none of those things. Instead anger rose to simmer beneath the surface as she sought to inch away from him.

"You have no right-"

"Yes, I do." Tezuka lifted a hand and brushed back a swathe of honey-brown hair from Fuji's cheek.

She scrambled to the side of the bed, only to have him reach out and halt her flight.

"Let me go!"

"No."

She lashed out at him, and struggled wildly as he pulled her onto his lap. Not a good position, Fuji discovered. She was too close, much too close. And the dictates of her brain were at variance with the demand of her senses.

The thought of succumbing was more than she could bear, and she stilled, aware that fighting Tezuka was futile.

"Don't." The single negative held a pleading anguish. "Don't."

It was the plea that got to him, and he caught her chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting it to examine her features.

The azure eyes are deep enough to drown in, their emotions stark with a vulnerability that twisted his gut, and his gaze narrowed at the fast-beating pulse drumming at the base of her throat.

Her mouth shook a little, and he watched as he sought control. But it was the moisture in her eyes, and a single escaping tear running in a slow rivulet down one cheek that tore a husky imprecation from his lips.

With incredible gentleness that most people thought that Tezuka is incapable of, Tezuka smoothed the moisture with his thumb then he lowered his head and trailed his mouth over her cheek.

He let the palm of one hand slip down her arm and settle against the curve of her waist. Their child grew there, a tiny embryo that would succour and gain strength. Its existence touched him as nothing else could.

"Come share my shower."

"I don't think so." He couldn't know just how much it cost her to refuse. Yet to slip back easily to the relationship they'd shared would indicate she condoned his use of emotional blackmail...something she hated him for. And Izanami...she didn't even want to go _there_!

Fuji slid from Tezuka's grasp, aware it was only because he allowed her, and she gathered a change of clothes and went to the en suite.

Her stomach felt as if it didn't belong to her, and she pressed a hand to her midriff in an attempt to soothe the disturbance.

Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed in tailored trousers, singlet top and jacket, Fuji felt measurably better, she caught up her shoulder bag and ran lightly down the stairs to the kitchen where Inoue was preparing eggs and freshly brewed coffee.

"Kunimitsu-sama is in the dining room. You will join him there." He spared her a warm smile. "I have made you tea."

"But I prefer-"

"Tea. Caffeine is not recommended during pregnancy."

Fuji wrinkled her nose at him, feeling her spirits lighten a little. Hunger assailed her, and she took a slice of toast from the staked rack Inoue had just added to the breakfast trolley, nibbled on it, then snatched a fresh strawberry and popped it to her mouth.

Fuji curled both hand over the trolley handle. "Want me to take this through?"

"Really, okusama," the butler chastised with an aloofness that brought forth a smile. "Most definitely not."

"Don't you think you can call me _Syuusuke_?" she cajoled then added teasingly, "I'm almost young enough to be your daughter."

He drew himself up to his full height. "You are the wife of my employer. I could not begin to be so familiar."

A laugh bubbled up in her throat and escaped as a mischievous chuckle. "You call him _Kunimitsu_." She reminded and met his level glance.

"We have known each other for a long time."

"Saa, how many years do I have to wait before you call me by my first name?"

"Five years." He responded solemnly, skilfully transferring grilled bacon onto a heated platter and placing it on the trolley together with the eggs. "At least."

"In that case, I get to wheel the trolley."

His mouth parted in silent protest, then he pursed his lips as he caught her cheeky grin, watching as she took care of the chore and leaving him to tidy up the kitchen.

The informal dining room was at the back of the house, overlooking the pool, and caught the morning sun.

Fuji reached it in seconds and swept throught the open door. "Breakfast...at your service"

Tezuka was at the head of the table, the day's newspaper spread out in front of him, a half finished mug of coffee on one side.

His jacket hung over the back of his chair, on top of which lay his tie. A briefcase and a laptop rested on the floor nearby.

He looked up at the sound of Fuji's voice, cast the trolley a glance, then folded the newspaper.

"How did you manage that?"

"Feminine wiles and logical rationale." She shifted platters onto the table, added fresh coffee, tea and toast, then she drew out a chair and sat down.

"You'll call your father and Yumiko?" It's more of a statement than a question.

"Hai," Fuji took a sip of tea, and felt her stomach settle. "Dad, as soon as I finish this." She indicated her plate with her fork. "Then I'll go into the shop."

"Not to work."

There was an edge of command apparent, and she paused in the process of transferring a portion of food into her mouth, "Of course, to work."

"There's no need for you to work."

"Are we talking about _today _specifically?"

"At all," There is no mistaking the clarification.

"Now that I'm pregnant?" Fuji's voice was quiet, too quiet.

"I don't see the necessity for you to be on your feet all day, put in long hours, and become over-tired."

She placed her cutlery with care and pushed her plate aside. "Instead, you'd prefer me to join the social-luncheon set, shop a lot and rest each afternoon like a delicate swan?"

"You can ship your interest in the shop to that of a silent partner, and have Yumiko employ an assistant."

"No."

"I'm not giving you an option."

His voice was flat but with an edge of anger Fuji chose to ignore.

"Don't try to manipulate me, Kunimitsu." Heat flared, Fuji opened her eyes, blue shards sharper than normal. "I won't stand for it."

"Finish your breakfast."

"I've lost my appetite." She stood to her feet and tossed the napkin on the table. "I have a few calls to make."

Tezuka caught hold of her arm, halting her flight, and she had no illusions that his hand would tighten if she tried to struggle.

"Tell Yumiko to employ your replacement." Those who knew him well would blanch at the smoothness in his tone, recognized the predatory stillness apparent...and quailed. "Or I will." He paused then added, "Meanwhile, ensure that your time at the shop is kept to a minimum."

"Go to hell."

His gaze chilled. "Don't push me too far."

She ignored the urge to respond as he released her arm. Instead, she chose dignified silence, and walked out to the terrace and descended the few steps to the garden.

There, she extracted her mobile phone and called her father, confirmed her return and suggested lunch, only to have it postponed due to a business meeting until the following day.

He sounded distracted, anxious. Regretful?

Dammit, she wanted answers, or at least a reason _why_ a man known for his integrity had done something so out of character. And she needed to hear it from _him_.

But not today, she conceded as she retraced her steps.

**HappyBirthdayFuji-UnrivaledPair-HappyBirthdayFuji-UnrivaledPair-HappyBirthdayFuji**

_Mal-chan:: Saa, Reviews, criticisms?_

_Flames would be used to cook my meals!_


	5. Wife vs Mistress

Inoue was clearing the table when she entered when she entered the dining room

Disclaimer: I own none of Prince of Tennis.

WARNING: protective and possessive Tezuka ahead!

To the people who're wondering why i refer to Fuji and Tezuka as Fuji and Tezuka(when in fact they're married) while narrating, I do that for my own sake. I'm having a hard time pertaining to them as Syuusuke and Kunimitsu. It's just wrong. Does that make any sense? -sweatdrop-

_**Okusama – **_means lady of the house.

mal-chan: Whoa, this is the longest chappie! Many thanks to Far-Fetched Imagineer for editing this story! Ate aedie, you're the best! This fic wouldn't be here without her!

I've been go for so long. Gomen ne, minna-san! Thank to all those who reviewed the last chapter I appreciated it so much!.

drakdemoncat

insignificantperson

vierblith

saya

a1y-puff

mesmerizedbyceruleaneyes

shiro-hizu

cassie

* * *

Inoue was clearing the table when she entered the dining room.

"Kunimitsu-sama has left for the city,"

"I'll need the keys to my car."

The manservant continued loading the trolley with breakfast dishes. "Forgive me okusama, but I don't think that's a good idea."

Fuji spared Inoue a level glance. "Kunimitsu is aware of my plans for the day."

"Didn't agree with them though, did he?"

"I have places to go, things to do."

"The shop, where you'll work all day." Inoue concluded.

"I help run a business." She reminded firmly.

"Kunimitsu-sama will disapprove."

She picked up her shoulder bag, slung it over one shoulder and grabs the car keys. "I'll make sure he knows you told me so."

"I'll drive you."

"Thanks." She was aware just hoe deep the man's loyalty went to his employer. "But, no thanks."

The studio was situated among a group of trendy Shibuya, and possessed a regular clientele.

Yumiko had a talent in assembling the set into an art form and went the extra mile to match it to the occasion and recipient. Fuji took care of photography and business...liaising with the customers.

Breathtaking settings, high-end cameras...and more than just a little magic had earned Picture Perfect a well-deserved reputation.

Fuji entered the shop just after nine.

The brunette that was arranging blooms in a decorative basket glanced up at the sound of the electronic bell.

"Syuusuke! It's so good to see you. When did you come back?"

"Last night."

The tensai found herself in an affectionate hug, from which she disentangles herself to meet Yumiko's keen appraisal.

"Ok, spill it out."

"Spill what?"

"Your cryptic text message didn't come close to explaining the reason why you flew the coop. And I don't buy Izanami was the only reason." Yumiko warned. "So _tell_ me."

She could prevaricate, but what's the point? "I'm pregnant."

There was initial surprise, but her sister's mouth curved into a warm smile and her eyes lit up with pleasure, only to narrow slightly seconds later. "So why are you not dancing in joy?"

"It wasn't planned."

"And that's a problem?"

"Not exactly."

"But something's bothering you. Want to share?"

She'd been silent for too long, and Yumiko's voice gentled a little.

"Have you told Kunimitsu the extent of Izanami's interference? Or how vicious she's been?"

What difference would it make? "No."

"Don't you think you should?"

"I can handle Izanami."

"Darling," Yumiko cautioned in rebuke. "Given half a chance she'll eat you up and spit you out."

Fuji offered her sister a wry smile. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself."

"I care about you." She waited a beat. "That's it? There's nothing more?"

Fuji was torn between confiding about their father's problem, and keeping silent, "Blame it on raging hormones," she dismissed with a negligible shrug.

"At a guess, my stoic brother-in-law would prefer his wife to stay at home?"

Nothing less than the truth. "Got it in one."

"So that's why you came into work?"

A faint smile curved the edges of her lips. "You know me well."

"As I have no wish to have Kunimitsu make me run laps," Yumiko declare judiciously, "from this day forward I take care of any heavy stuff. Okay?"

"Maybe."

"And take an hour for lunch."

"Neesan, that's an indulgence I don't need."

"You do the computer stuff."

Fuji assumed a pained look. "Who said you get to be the _boss_?"

Yumiko gave her a smile. "I do."

"Like I'd listen?"

"You could try."

Fuji's unpacking some equipment when Yumiko handed her the cordless phone.

"The father of your child."

Checking up on her. "Kunimitsu," she acknowledged, and heard his drawl in response.

"I thought we'd agreed to limit your hours in the shop."

"I don't recall accepting the suggestion to do so."

"Don't split hairs."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Syuusuke." Tezuka's voice held a warning she chose to ignore.

"Your concern is touching."

"We'll continue this later."

"I can't wait." She ended the call before he had a chance to utter a single call.

Not a good move, she reflected, given they were dining out that evening with friends. Correction...a few of Kunimitsu's colleagues and their partners. Wives, girlfriends, and mistress.

Fuji had no doubt Izanami Huzen would make sure of the inclusion in a continuing effort to put the cat among the pigeons. The glamorous Izanami was the queen of all felines...dangerous and deadly. While women recognised her power and were disturbed by it, men looked no further than stunning looks and her incredible sexuality.

Reneging on the evening was out of the question, and Fuji felt the onset of the nervous tension as the afternoon drew to a close.

"Go home," Yumiko advised. "I can manage things here until we close."

"That bad, huh?"

"Nothing a shower and a skilfully applied make-up won't fix."

Fuji tilted her head on the side. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Yumiko offered a cheerful grin. "Wear something gorgeous and knock Izanami off her perch."

"As if. She has claws of steel."

"You have a few advantages. As well as Kunimitsu's ring on your finger, you're carrying his child."

"The ring hasn't had any effect. What makes you think pregnancy will?"

Yumiko shot her a level look. "We're talking _Kunimitsu_," she reminded. "Not someone like the rat I married and divorced in record time."

Fuji was all too aware of the impact an unsuccessful marriage had on her sister's life, the bitterness and rejection, the heartache. Three years had helped heal the wounds, but the emotional scars ran deep, leaving a wariness and distrust of men.

Support was given, but she learnt how to hold back on expressing verbal sympathy. Only caring few new Yumiko's hard exterior was merely a shell she wore to protect an inner vulnerability.

How would Yumiko react on hearing her brother-in –law utilized emotional blackmail in bringing her sister home?

"Go, I'll finish up here."

"That's unfair. I'm pregnant, not sick."

"I doubt Kunimitsu will hear any of it."

"Kunimitsu," she assured, "Doesn't dictate my life."

* * *

It wasn't something she wanted to give much thought to as she fought the late-afternoon traffic en route to his palatial home.

Inoue greeted her as she entered the foyer. "Kunimitsu-sama will be delayed for half an hour, okusama."

"Syuusuke," she corrected for the umpteenth time, aware having Inoue use her given name was a battle she'd probably never win.

"It would be very disrespectful of me to be so familiar with the boss's wife."

* * *

Selecting what to wear should have been simple, except there were too many choices. Classic black or scarlet? Maybe the emerald sheath? One of the pastels with its chiffon panels?

Fifteen minutes later she threw her hands up in the air, tossed an electric blue sheath on the bed and retrieved a matching stiletto en route to the en suite bathroom.

When she emerged, Tezuka was in the process of discarding his clothes, and her heart faltered, then missed a beat as he shrugged his shirt off.

Broad shoulders were accentuated by superb musculature and smooth skin.

She retained a vivid memory of what it was like to touch his warm flesh, to feel the flexing of muscles beneath her touch. The slide of her body on his, the faint hiss of his breath as he sought control.

Kami-sama, what was happening to her that she stood transfixed by the mere sight of him?

How _could_ she be turned on, when she believed she had every reason to hate him?

With deliberate movements she sank down on the edge of the bed and pulled on tights, smoothing them overreach calf, then her thighs.

Unbidden, her gaze flicked towards him, and became trapped in his own.

For a moment, everything remained still. There was only him, and the tension that fizzled between them like a broken live wire.

Tezuka then strode to the bathroom and seconds later the hiss of the shower acted as the catalyst that released her limbs from their trance-like state.

With shaky movements she caught up her dress, stepped into it, then slid home the zip.

Hair and make-up took longer than she anticipated.

The application of the eyeshadow and eyeliner required her skill that had suddenly gone haywire, and she had to start over twice before she achieved the desired result.

Fuji was aware the moment Tezuka re-entered the room. Then her mind came to a halt. Had he seen Izanami during her absence? The mere thought that he might have tore the breath from her body.

Kami-sama..._No_. The denial was a silent scream. Fidelity. He'd given his assurance on that score, even putting it into writing. Except they were only words. And Izanami is a seductive temptress most men would find difficult to resist

"Problems?"

Her finger fumbled with the clasp on her nape. "I can manage." Except attaching the fastener remained elusive, and she was extremely conscious of him as he crossed to her side, removed the golden chain from her fingers and smoothly tending to its closing.

Did he stand there a few seconds longer than necessary? Was the light brush of his fingers against her nape deliberate, or merely accidental?

Get a grip! The silent scolding held self-derision as she slid her feet into the stiletto pumps and caught up her evening bag.

"Ready?"

Fuji turned to face the bland expression in those hazel orbs. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Their host resided in a mansion right in the heart of Tokyo, where street parking was the only option and therefore made recognition of fellow guests' cars almost impossible.

Trendy cafes, narrow terrace houses converted into boutiques lent a cosmopolitan air where the wealthy lingered over tea and lattes and watched the social elites mix and mingle.

The mesh shrieked both old and new money that reflected the diverse style not generally seen anywhere else in the city.

Ten guests where assembled in the magnificent lounge, and Fuji wasn't conscious of holding her breath until she released it in a tiny rush of discovering Izanami was nowhere in sight.

She requested orange juice, and sipped it as she was drawn in a conversation by mutual acquaintance who seemed intent on lauding the expertise of the current cosmetic surgeon in fashion.

Scintillating conversation, she accorded mentally, wondering at the priorities in some women's lives. Yet looking good was important if they want to keep a wealthy husband who provided the lifestyle they enjoyed, for there was always a younger version waiting on the wings, willing and eager to please.

Working out, enhancing the muscle-toned body, the regular manicures, pedicures, hair styling, facials, body massage, the designer clothes, jewellery…all to gild what they perceived as a required image. As the year passed, the more desperate they became. And 'going abroad' was the most popular excuse to have the latest 'nip and tuck' in America, Switzerland or France.

"What do you think, darling?"

"You'd never know." Fuji responded, dutifully endorsing the cosmetic surgeon's success.

"He's incredible. Frighteningly expensive, of course. But then…"

"One must do what one has to do."

"Exactly."

The guest moved on, and seconds later Tezuka curved an arm across the back of her waist.

"Don't you think you're taking togetherness a little too far?"

"No."

"Forgive me. I forgot we're playing a game."

"And that is?"

"Happily married." Fuji said without missing a beat.

Tezuka's gaze narrowed. "Careful, anata. There's a limit to my patience."

"As there is to mine."

It was at that precise moment that the servant ushered the last guest, and all heads turned as one at the sound of that husky feminine laugh.

_Izanami_. The dark hair was beautifully coiffed, her make-up spectacular. The woman could rival any international model. Add stunning looks, symmetrically perfect features, and she was a knock-out.

Partnering her was her handbag for the evening…a handsome man whose polished good looks and manner were almost too much for any morale male.

A model? A gentleman escort who hired out his services?

Not nice, but Fuji can't help it.

The air-kiss routine was a little too contrived to be genuine. Izanami's gaze brittle, and there was a lack of warmth in her smile.

Like a pre-set guided missile she turned towards Tezuka and shot him a stunning glance that conveyed in everyone present just _who_ she intended to target her attention.

Fuji could almost _hear_ the unspoken threat…and felt her stomach clench in silent antipathy.

"The evening's entertainment has arrived." She said quietly, and felt Tezuka's fingers tighten at the edge of her waist.

"Behave."

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything else." She hardly had time to take a breath, and Izanami was before them, exuding an exotic blend of expensive perfume, and a gown that looked as if it had been sprayed on, so lovingly did it hug her slender curves,

"_Kunimitsu_, darling."

The brush of her lips on his cheek was more than a mere greeting, and Fuji gritted her teeth in vexation.

"Izanami." An acknowledgement that was polite to the extreme, and her smile a mere facsimile.

The seating at dinner was either badly mismanaged or created by adroit manipulation on Izanami's part.

One could almost be amused by it, Fuji decided with resignation as she sank into a chair opposite Izanami's partner,

There were numerous ways she'd choose to spend an evening, but observing her husband's ex-mistress eating him alive across a table wasn't one of them.

It was a great shame she couldn't indulge in pile of wasabi sushi to dull the edges, and other food didn't quite do it for her.

"Dieting, darling?"

Implication was the mother of invention. "Coping with a migraine." Not entirely untrue, for a few hours in Izanami's company was guaranteed to provide Fuji a headache.

Izanami effected a faint pout, and more directed at Tezuka a warm seductive smile.

Fuji speared a prawn with unnecessary vigour, and attempted to do justice the delectable starter.

The main dish followed, and she took miniscule servings, which she subsequently picked at, only to discard her cutlery after a few morsels,

Conversation followed, as did the wine, and she has to wonder if she was the only one who notices Izanami's increasingly seductive behaviour.

There was a moment where Izanami cast Tezuka a particularly blatant smile and deliberately moistened her lips, causing Fuji to gnash her teeth.

She was sorely tempted to pick up her glass and throw iced water in Izanami's face. If nothing else, it might cool her down.

Except such an action would only cause an unforgivable scene.

It was during dessert that she felt something touch her leg.

Accidental or contrived to draw Fuji's attention to the fact that Izanami was grazing a sheer Jimmy Choo clad toe against Tezuka's leg beneath the table…or worse?

"Lost you shoe, Izanami?" Fuji opened showed her steely blue eyes.

Fuji had to give her credit….the woman was a superb actress.

"No. What makes you think that?"

Give it up. Fuji decided. Here, _now_, was not the time or the place for a showdown. Instead, she curled the fingers of her left hand into a fist beneath her napkin, and barely restrained herself when she felt Tezuka's hand close over her own.

To what purpose? Silent commiseration or an attempt to soothe her suspicion?

With a surreptitious movement she shifted her fist to his thigh, and sig her nails into solid muscle…hard.

To give him credit, he gave no indication there was a silent battle of wills being played out of sight. Instead, he merely uncurled her fingers and lifted them to his lips.

Only Fuji glanced at the steel beneath the projected warmth evident in the russet orbs…and something else she didn't care to define. Anger, annoyance?

She told herself she didn't care.

"One trusts that you enjoyed your sojourn to Okinawa?"

Why did she have the impression no conversation with Izanami was safe? The words were politely couched, the tone innocuous. Except she new all too well how Izanami operated, and _innocence_, wasn't in her agenda.

"It proved to be a pleasant break."

A perfectly shaped eyebrow rose fractionally. "Alone?"

Oh my, it was like tiptoeing in a mine field! "You find that surprising?"

"Kunimitsu appeared to be a little distracted by your absence."

Fuji swept his strong features with amusing warmth, lingered over-long on his sinfully beautiful mouth. "How nice to be missed."

He still retained hold of her hand, and she attempted to pull it off without success. This close, she was aware of the subtle and expensive cologne. She missed the closeness, his touch, the times she lay in his arms living the moment when it was almost possible to believe he cared.

Except there was always a degree of control, something he never lost, and she wondered what would it take to have him totally mindless.

Did he know how she felt? Kami-sama, how could he not?

Izanami seemed intent on bewitching her companion for the evening…an action surely designed to make Tezuka aware what he was missing.

Were the fellow guest observing Izanami's charade. Or was she being overly sensitive?

"Finished?"

She glanced at Tezuka as he removed the cup and saucer from her hand. "Arigatou."

"Shall we leave?"

A faint smile curved the edges of her mouth. "I thought you'd never ask."

Playing polite for the last few hours had taxed her acting skills. _Get used to it,_ a tiny voice taunted.

His gaze narrowed. "Tired?"

"If I say yes would it invite a lecture?"

"Without doubt."

"Then_ no_, I'm not tired."

"You're pale." He observed.

It took a while to reach the car, for there were the shared reminders of upcoming events, two extended invitations to consider, and the inevitable delay before the last 'goodnight' was exchanged.

The vehicle purred through the quiet street, and Fuji leant her head against the cushioned rest and closed her eyes.

TBC….

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mal-chan: How 'bout I convert this to an AtobexOC fic. Seriously, it would suit him and the OC better. Anyway, reviews are appreciated. I don't mind flames as it is very cold here right now.


	6. Silent Plea

Disclaimer: If I own POT, Fuji and Tezuka would be officially married.

**mal-chan: Sorry this took eons. School is crazy. And I hope you people still like reading this. Thanks for all those who reviewed and those who PMed. It was greatly appreciated.And this is the shortest chapter I've ever made for APS.**

**Many thanks to _vierblith_ for proof-reading this chapter. You people should thank her too,ne?**

**WARNING:** _**Gender-bender, don't like it? Go away.**_

_Oh, I named the cat Tono-sama for no reason._

_Chapter Title: Silen Plea_

Fuji had nominated a restaurant not far from Picture Perfect for lunch with her father.

When her father arrived, he declared he could not stay for long. Despite being of average height, he'd always had presence. It was in the way he held himself, the easy way he moved. But today…he seemed diminished.

They ordered from the menu, and sipped chilled water while they waited for their food.

"Are you okay?"

Was it something in her tone that caused the pain reflected in his eyes?

"Kunimitsu told you."

The pretend ignorance was a useless exercise, and Fuji hated the guilt that momentarily haunted his features.

"Did you think he wouldn't?

He had the grace to look embarrassed.

What would his reaction be if she confided Tezuka had used the knowledge as leverage to effect reconciliation?

A waiter served their order, and they both ate, mindful of the need not to linger.

"I only have one question," Fuji began without preamble. "_Why?" _

"I was planning to borrow the money and give it back, but the company I invested in turned out to be non-existent."

The most immediate question came to mind: "What would you do now?"

"Sell the apartment and rebuild my reputation. Overseas," he elaborated. "I have connections in New York."

Maybe it would be a good move and she told him so.

"Did you enjoy the beach?"

"It's good to be back." A fabrication; the stark truth wasn't something she was prepared to confide. However, there was something she could share, and she did. "How do you feel about becoming a grandfather?"

His smile reflected pleasant warmth, and he covered her hand with his own. "I can't tell you enough how happy I am."

_PerfectPairStrongestPairUnrivaledPair PerfectPairStrongestPairUnrivaledPair PerfectPairStrongestPairUnrivaledPair_

It was after two when Fuji returned to the shop, and the remainder of the afternoon passed quickly as she brought up to date computer records, dealt with accounting entries and handled the phone.

Traffic was heavy, and it took a while to reach the Tezuka Mansion. The thought of a shower, changing into casual clothes and a long, cool drink… in that order was uppermost in her mind as she parked the car.

A light meal, maybe she'd view a video, then, she'd catch an early night.

Inoue appeared into the foyer as she entered it, and she offered him a stunning smile. "Hi, how was your day?"

"The usual, okusama. And yours?"

"The same."

"Kunimitsu-sama asked that I inform you he'll be late. A business dinner, he said."

"So it's just me and the kitchen cat. A salad will be fine."

His lips thinned in visible disapproval. "The chef has prepared something more substantial than a salad. If you'll kindly tell me where and when you'd like to eat, I will be on hand to serve the meal."

"And the kitchen cat?" It was a query she couldn't resist and brought forth a glimmer of a smile.

"Sulked the entire time you were absent." As did the master of the house, although, one didn't use _sulk _and _Tezuka Kunimitsu _in one sentence. A heightened temperament is more appropriate.

"Then I should make amends."

Fuji found Tono-sama in the laundry basket, and he eyed her carefully as if weighing up whether to greet her or not. She had, after all, not been around for quite a while. Except there was something in the tone of her voice, a caring gentleness to her touch that won him over, and he allowed instinct to rule by rolling onto his back.

Unconditional affection, Fuji reflected as she stroke Tono-sama's arched throat.

If only it was as uncomplicated with the human species, she mused as she ascended the stairs.

After a leisurely shower she donned jeans and a loose shirt. Then she retraced her steps to the kitchen, where the chef was in the process of arranging stir-fry on a bed of steaming rice.

Fuji caught a pair of chopsticks and collected the bowl. "I'll go eat on the terrace."

The air held the balmy warmth of summer, and she had the urge to feel the slight breeze against her face, breathe in the scents of the blooming flowers, and gain some tranquility.

It was easy to let her mind wander to the first time she came to this house. The pleasure in loving the man who brought her here and the promise of what could and would be, in spite of the knowledge that a part of his heart would always be out of reach.

A man of Tezuka's wealth and quality was an inevitable magnet for female attention. She could accept that. She could even handle the relatively harmless flirtatious games played out by the social set.

A mistress, however, was something she refused to condone.

Izanami Huzen would have Fuji believe the affair was alive and well. But was it? Tezuka swore_ no_. So who did she believe?

She turned t the sound of the servant's voice calling her out.

"Oku-sama, would you like some dessert?"

Fuji shook her head.

"Some tea, perhaps?"

"Yes, please."

The maid turned and left for the kitchen.

Fuji moved from the table and curled into a nearby chaise lounge. Seconds later, there was a soft plop as a fury bundle landed beside her on the cushion and Tono-sama settled into a ball close to her thigh.

She lifted a hand and began to stroke his head and was rewarded with a quiet and throaty purr.

The maid returned and served her tea. Gradually, it became darker and street light became visible in the distance.

It was where Tezuka found her, asleep, her head resting on the cushioned rest.

She wasn't to know that Inoue had remained indoors keeping her in plain sight until Tezuka returned home.

Tezuka stood in front of the chaise lounge, looking at her features in repose. Then he hunkered down and tucked an errant tendril behind her ear.

She stirred, and he cupped a palm over her shoulder and ran it lightly down to her elbow, watching as her eyelashes fluttered and swept slowly upward.

"What are you doing out here?"

Fuji reached out a hand and found empty space where the cat had slept. "Tono-sama?"

"The servant had settled him into his basket for the night."

Tezuka helped her to stand on her feet and led her to their room.

Once the door was shut, he pulled Fuji close and slowly lowered his head and his lips touched hers with a gentleness that made her want to weep.

"I don't want to do this."

It was an ache-filled whisper that curled around his heart and tugged a little.

"Then tell me to stop."

Kami-sama…she hungered for his touch.

Buttons, fasteners were undone in haste and fell to the carpet until there was nothing between them.

Then Tezuka slowly lowered her onto the bed. His body rose over hers, large, powerful, and fully aroused. His eyes were dark with passion. Hard muscles and sinew corded as he supported his weight above hers.

There was leashed control as he pleasured her.

She should cry out for him to halt this madness before it went any further. But she was powerless to utter so much as a word.

She needed his possession, craved it. To deny him was to deny herself, and she damned her sybaritic soul as he tipped her over the edge, then held her as she fell.

He lay on his side, facing her with one arm tucking her body close to his.

He pressed a kiss to the edge of her shoulder.

"I hate you."

"Hn." His lips reached her elbow then trailed in the inside of her wrist.

"Izanami-"

"Has no part in what we share together." He assured and felt the rapid acceleration of the tensai's pulse.

"That isn't how she sees it."

"You want to talk about another woman when the only woman who interests me is _you_?"

Kami-sama, he had the touch to drive her wild. "They're only words."

"What would you have me say?"

_I love you._ The silent, beseeching cry came from her heart. And it broke a little with the knowledge they were words he would never say.

He reached down and drew the blanket over them, then caught hold of her chin and tilted it so she had no choice but to look at him.

"Make no mistake, you are mine and you carry my child. That is enough."

He was wrong. It wasn't nearly enough.

"You want to continue the discussion?"

It took every effort to force her voice to sound calm. "Why?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "There's nothing to discuss."

_**Tsutzuku**_

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**mal-chan: Please don't kill me. This is the first time I wrote something that resembles smut. Reviews are much loved and I don't mind flames as well.**


	7. Author's Note

I know I haven't updated APS for a while now and I probably won't update sometime soon. I think a lot of the professors in school hate me. They keep on giving endless works _. Aside from that, It seems that I've lost my drive and I'm sorry for that. I just have to find my muse again. I'm not saying I'm completely abandoning this though. But for now, "A Passionate Surrender" is on official hiatus. Again, hontou ni gomen nasai, minna-san!


	8. Midday Nightmare

Disclaimer: If I own the Prince of Tennis, there would be at least a couple making every chapter,

**mal-chan: I'm so sorry for not updating for so, so long. School had been crazy and I'm sdrifting away from the fandom. Btw, the offer still stands; PM me if you are interested in continuing this fic.**

**I'm also saying sorry in advance for the crappiness and shortness of this chapter. This is all I could muster right now. I love you all guys**

**Many thanks to **_Hareta _**and **_Far-Fetched Imagineer_** for proof-reading this chapter. Thank them too,ne?**

Summary: Tezuka never said I love you. Fuji thinks Tezuka is keeping a mistress and she is not willing to share, If Fuji cannot have Tezuka's love, she decided that it would be Tezuka's fidelity or nothing at all. AU TeFu

Pairing: TezuFuji/KuniSuke

Age: Tezuka 27/ Fuji 25

Rating: T

Chapter Title: Midday Nightmare

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_Recap:_

"_What would you have me say?"_

_I love you.__ The silent, beseeching cry came from her heart. And it broke a little with the knowledge they were words he would never say._

_He reached down and drew the blanket over them, then caught hold of her chin and tilted it so she had no choice but to look at him._

"_Make no mistake, you are mine and you carry my child. That is enough."_

_He was wrong. It wasn't nearly enough._

"_You want to continue the discussion?"_

_It took every effort to force her voice to sound calm. "Why?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "There's nothing to discuss."_

**Chapter Start:**

"You intend going into the shop?"

Fuji met Tezuka's gaze across the table then deliberately sipped her tea.

"Yes."

"Deliberate defiance, Syuusuke?"

Sighing, Fuji said, "'Nee-san assigned me to taking assignments, managing the records and answering the phone. Satisfied?"

"Not entirely."

"Guess you'll just have to deal with it." Fuji flashed her usual closed-eye smile to Tezuka.

Something flickered in the depth of her husband's eyes. "Why haven't you done what you have been told to do, aijin?"

_Lover_. Did he imagine that what they did last night is all it would take to make her forget everything? "Nothing has changed, Kunimitsu."

"You think not?"

The insistent beeping of her mobile phone demanded her attention. She read the text message and gathered up her bag. "I have to go"

Tezuka pinned her with a steely gaze before silently saying, "Ki o tsukette"

She didn't want to think about the look Tezuka sent her, nor the commanding tone he used.

Nevertheless, both haunted her as she passed through the main access road leading towards Shinjuku.

If Tezuka imagined that _sex _solved everything then he was sorely mistaken, she determined as she halted behind a stream of traffic waiting for the light to change.

In the cool light of day, there were several recriminations; mostly against herself for succumbing to her husband's seduction, and displaying only token resistance to shared intimacy.

The sound of a horn heralded a return to the present, and it was almost eight when she entered the shop.

**_TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu TeFu_**

It proved to be a busy day, with numerous phone calls requesting for several events to be covered and/or styled, which necessitated the need to order more supplies to fill them.

"Go take a lunch break." Yumiko urged. "Sit outside in the fresh air at one of the sidewalk cafes. You can bring me back a meal, preferably ramen."

It was a lovely day. A gentle breeze teased the passerbys and warm sunlight filtered through the gaps between towering buildings.

Shinjuku had a style all of its own. It had all the high end boutiques one could think of and has numerous cafes. The Shinjuku Central Park and Shinjuku Gyouen – where one could find a brief respite from the busy life of Shinjuku – were both easily accessible.

Seeing the beauty of the National Garden, Fuji felt the need to exercise. She crossed the street to the next block, and then chose a restaurant where there are a few empty tables beneath huge umbrellas.

A waiter materialized from inside the café, took her order and delivered it in record time. She viewed the tastefully presented tempura, tofu, vegetables and miso soup with anticipation.

So far, she had very few pregnancy symptoms except a faint queasiness in the morning. But her appetite had changed, and it amused her that the growing child's demands six small meals a day instead of the normal three. If Fuji failed to deliver its whims, the result was nausea. Definitely a kid with a mind of its own.

"Tezuka Syuusuke"

_Kami-sama, please, no_, not Izanami Huzen. But it was the witch herself, looking the glamour queen in immaculately styled clothes and impeccably applied make up.

"You don't mind sharing, do you?"

Now that was a shady statement. Did she mean to convey an innuendo? "The table, Izanami-san?"

"Of course darling, I just want to have tea." She slid into a chair. "And we need to talk."

"We do?" Fuji answered flippantly. She was strongly tempted to stand and leave. Only fascination kept her from leaving. "Regarding?"

"Why, _Kunimitsu_, of course."

_Of course, who else?_ Fuji made a point of checking her watch. "I'm due back at the shop in a few minutes."

"Kunimitsu and I were discussing the situation yesterday."

"Really?" She glimpsed the triumphant gleam in the other woman's gaze, and slanted one eyebrow. "A deliberate _oops _moment, Izanami-san?"

"Kunimitsu and I go back a long way."

Fuji had enough. Revealing her azure orbs, she openly glared at the other. "_Back _is the keyword. As in _past_." She stood to her feet and gathered her stuff. "Do yourself a favor. Get over it and move on."

Quickly recovering from the glare Fuji sent her, Izanami said, "Perhaps you should ask yourself why Kunimitsu haven't terminated the affair until now."

She felt appalled of it all, the insinuations fed by her self-doubt. Worse, the steady barbs of verbal poison coming from the witch personified who enthusiastically aim it her way in every opportunity that arises.

"Admit you've become obsessed with a man who doesn't want you." Strong words, but she was way past abiding the politeness the Japanese culture dictates. "The affair ended before my marriage and your own. As what Kunimitsu had told me, your relationship was brief and it was he who ended it."

She felt lightheaded. A rush of blood to her head perhaps? Throwing Izanami an infuriating smile, she said, "I'm not into human ownership, Izanami-san. If Kunimitsu wants to discard me and lose his marriage, he's perfectly free to do so."

On that note, she entered the establishment, collected Yumiko's take-out meal, paid the bill and left without as much as throwing a glance in Izanami's direction.

TBC

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Mal-chan: choco fudge and lotsa love for those who would review and give constructive criticisms. Flames would be used to heat up my home.


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